Chapter Text
Tension crackled in the air; an invisible, free-roving electricity that charged every person in attendance tonight. Gone was the carefree atmosphere that Izuku had witnessed last time he’d sat through one of these baseball games—in its place, a nervous energy buzzed. There were nowhere near as many sunny smiles or gales of laughter on the faces of people pouring through the gates tonight. Izuku was hard pressed to even find someone with a drink in their hand. Made sense.
This was the college world championships, after all.
Once, Izuku would have said that he didn’t care about baseball or the university’s team. He would’ve told you that the team members were a distraction in class and that the head coach was an ass that deserved a good kicking.
And while he still believed that the university spent way too much on them… he definitely couldn’t say that the outcome of this game didn’t matter to him anymore.
As he stood in the throng by the entrance, he felt just as restless as everyone else. He had no idea what was going through their heads, but to Izuku, the Musutafu team was special to him. They were no longer the arrogant players who never showed up for class. He knew them, could share a joke with them. Hell, he even felt oddly protective at times, like a parent wanting to shield his children from life’s harsh realities. And just like every person milling around with their school colors on, Izuku desperately wanted them to win.
Shuffling forward, Izuku was yet another tense face in the masses, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he frantically looked around… although Izuku wasn’t just anxious because of the game.
A certain someone was going to appear any second, shoving his way past people to get to Izuku. Someone who’d have a hell of a time making it here and back before the first pitch was thrown, especially without stirring up some chaos along the way.
“Where are you?” Izuku asked himself, bouncing on his toes so he could see over the top of the shifting mob. He checked his phone for the umpteenth time, noting the digits on the clock. Only ten minutes until game time and still no Katsuki.
He nibbled on his thumb as he opened his messages, scrolling through his most recents. Nothing after ‘see ya soon’, time stamped three minutes ago. Izuku checked and rechecked the location. He was pretty sure this was right. Though maybe he was meant to go further inside the stadium. Except when he lifted on his toes, he couldn’t make heads or tails of anything.
I hate being short, he cursed internally.
A shoulder bumped into him, nearly sending Izuku tumbling. He dropped back down to his heels, catching himself just in time and muttering out a “s’okay” to the apology sent his way. It was then that he decided, with a crowd as anxious and single-minded as this one, it was probably better to focus on holding his ground than trying to spot Katsuki.
That thought held for about two seconds before he was back on his tiptoes, trying to spy a tall blonde weaving towards him. Immediately, another elbow found its way into his ribs and he stumbled.
…Right as he was about to fall, an arm wrapped around his waist, steadying him. He jolted, attempting to squirm away until the familiar, intoxicating scent of warm leather met his nose.
“Hey, teach.”
Izuku relaxed into that hold, humming a greeting. “Hi, Kacchan.”
“Why’re you standing in the way?”
Reluctantly, Izuku turned to face him, trying not to let his dismay show when Katsuki’s arm fell back to his side.
Disappointment didn’t last long when Izuku got an eyeful of his ensemble—Katsuki always looked sexy, but tonight he dazzled in a stark white visiting team’s uniform, tidy black lines racing up his muscled form. Izuku had to wonder if the designer of the outfit specifically had Katsuki in mind when they drew it up. The fabric fit him like a second skin—hugging his thick waist, gripping those long legs, squeezing the swell of his bicep.
Absently, Izuku swiped at his mouth, just in case he was drooling.
“You’re here,” he stated dumbly. Not fair. Why does he always take my breath away? That’s exactly what was happening to Izuku. The second his eyes landed on Katsuki, it felt like his chest was straining, his stomach quivering in anticipation.
Though perhaps that wasn’t just because Katsuki’s body was screaming for Izuku to touch it. Part of that feeling had to do with the unspoken words left between them, now delayed to the point where Izuku felt like they might leak from his lips any second.
A smug smile pulled on Katsuki’s mouth and then he was leaning forward, voice rumbling low in Izuku’s ear. “Can’t look at me like that, teach or I won’t make it to the game on time.”
Izuku shivered. “S-sorry.” And then, because he managed to find a shred of dignity in the mush that was his brain, “Wait a second, the game! You have to—”
Suddenly, one of the people next to them stopped short. “Woah, aren’t you Katsuki Bakugou?”
“Hey, that is!”
“Wow, I can’t believe it. Um, coach, do you mind if I get an autograph?”
Katsuki shifted to face them, his hand coming to rest on Izuku’s lower back. The moment his attention was on them, he seemed to morph into an entirely different person, like a lizard slipping into an old skin. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling like they were sharing a joke. He even chattered pleasantly.
“Got me! I just needed to speak to my friend before the game,” he explained, pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll have to run to get back to the dugout in time. Shh, don’t tell the umps.”
He winked at them. Izuku briefly wondered if he was possessed. But they didn’t seem to catch onto the false magnetism he was exuding, their eyes lighting up like Katsuki had just said the funniest thing in the world.
.Proof that good looks and a fleck of charisma could turn anyone into a charmer.
“Aww, that’s alright. We won’t say a thing!” One of them giggled.
“Exactly! We won’t.” The other made a shooing motion at them, a wide, insipid grin spreading on their cheeks. “Better hurry up, coach. The game is almost starting!”
Katsuki gave them a thumbs up. Izuku stared at them all, gobsmacked.
“Thanks, guys!” Then, with his hand still firmly on Izuku’s back, Katsuki hurried them to the side and away from the crowd that was starting to thin. As soon as he was out of earshot, he dropped the act, sliding right back into his untouchable, confident persona.
“Woah, I’m getting whiplash,” Izuku whispered.
“This way, teach.”
Either Katsuki didn’t hear or he was choosing to ignore him, leading them past a security guard. They walked into an empty hallway that ran directly under the stadium—probably an employee-only area since it was so devoid of people.
Izuku blushed fiercely at the memories of the last time he’d come to a similar place… of Katsuki’s hands and mouth roving over his body. The circumstances were a lot different now though, what with a championship game on the line. Still, it was hard to ignore the heat pooling in his gut, especially when Katsuki continued to guide him forward, his palm sitting warm and heavy on Izuku’s lower back.
Izuku forced his thoughts elsewhere. “Is it always like that with fans?”
“Worse.” Katsuki made a face, and Izuku couldn’t help but think that it was probably the same sort of expression he’d given his mom back when he was a toddler.
“I remember reading somewhere that you were terrible with fans,” he commented casually, like he hadn’t tracked down every bit of information about Katsuki’s professional career weeks ago.
Did that make him a stalker? No. No, it did not. He was only curious. That’s what he told himself anyway, even though he couldn’t quite make eye contact, observing Katsuki from the corner of his vision.
Katsuki snorted. “Terrible? That’s an understatement. When I started out in the pros, I was an absolute nightmare. Got a bad reputation for yelling at teammates, coaches, reporters, fans… You name it. The team I debuted with threatened to trade me early.”
Izuku didn’t have to strain to imagine it. When he first met Katsuki, he wrote him off as a short-tempered jerk with no manners. And this was years after he retired from his professional career.
“Looks like you’ve got the act down now.”
“Act is the perfect word for it,” Katsuki grumbled. “But, I’m also not as tightly wound as I was back then. You’d never see it, looking from the outside, but I was a disaster mentally.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine the sort of pressure you were under.”
“S’alright. I got used to it.” Katsuki’s hand drifted down for a brief second, brushing the top of Izuku’s ass. Then, before Izuku was able to register what he was about to do, Katsuki pinched it. “I’m better now.”
“Hey!”
“So, teach! Got your ticket?” Katsuki asked brightly. This time there was real cheer in his tone, unlike that fake, overly sweet manner that he’d used on those strangers a moment ago. His face lit up as soon as Izuku peered at him, completely at ease despite his palm staying firmly grounded on his backside.
“Yes…” he replied slowly, trying to keep his lips from twitching. “I didn’t realize you’d set aside a ticket for me.”
“Front row seat. Wanted you to have a good view. Also, I was hoping it’d make it easier to see you.” Katsuki plucked Izuku’s shirt—a bright orange jersey, shot through with black and eye-catching in every sense of the word. “Looks like you’ve got that covered.”
Izuku’s cheeks burned. He’d specifically ordered one of Katsuki’s old jerseys from when he’d played. ‘Bakugou’ was stretched in white letters on his back, with Katsuki’s old number beneath it.
“Just wanted to support you,” Izuku answered, voice tight with embarrassment. Suddenly, the need to change the subject was almost too much to bear. He cleared his throat, managing to squeak out a question. “Where are we going?”
“Shortcut to your seat. One of the employees said they’d help escort you there so you don’t miss anything. Told her to get lost, I could handle it.” Katsuki let out a sharp chuckle. “Also might be a shortcut back to the dugout, too.”
Izuku let out a breathy laugh. “Of course it is.”
The nerves that had been fluttering willy-nilly in his stomach seemed to settle, dissipating until only warmth remained. This felt like an old routine for them, like Izuku falling into sync with Katsuki, teasing and exchanging jabs, was as easy as breathing.
“So you came all this way just to show me to my seat?” Izuku asked, allowing that warmth in, feeling it tingle through his body.
“Yeah. Sorta.”
They were approaching an opening in the stadium now. Ahead, Izuku saw bright fluorescent lights and schools of moths dancing around them, as well as a mass of people already teeming in their seats. The buzz that had reverberated around them as they walked here was much louder now, impossible to ignore.
“Alright…” Katsuki started, before trailing off. He gazed down at Izuku, piercing crimson eyes making the smaller man squirm.
“Alright?”
Was it time already? Was this the moment Izuku had been waiting for since that late night phone call? Right before the game started would be the perfect moment to confess his feelings, especially since Katsuki had to know what Izuku would say. He was wearing his old jersey tonight, for crying out loud! What other hint did Katsuki need?
…Though if their positions were reversed, Izuku had a feeling he’d overanalyze the situation and misinterpret everything he possibly could. The jersey would be more of an act of kindness than a silent declaration, Katsuki’s attempt to make him feel better before he “let him down easy”. In that case, Izuku knew he needed to clarify things real quick before Katsuki got the wrong idea.
Except, as soon as he opened his mouth, Katsuki pressed a finger to it. “Hold on. Don’t.”
Izuku’s sharp exhale rose into a whine of confusion.
“I know what you want to do.” A calloused palm cupped Izuku’s jaw, thumb replacing his index finger and drawing tantalizingly over his lips. “Don’t say anything yet.”
“Why not?” Izuku wondered, half-breathless, half-pouting. Katsuki had that effect on him. He never knew quite how to respond, which always ended with his emotions sneaking out, unchecked.
“Because. This is a big game. Biggest I’ve had as a college coach,” Katsuki explained with an indulgent huff. He squeezed Izuku’s cheeks gently, though Izuku could swear there was a flash of something more serious in those eyes, as though perhaps he had been right earlier and Katsuki wasn’t as unfazed as he was letting on.
Izuku blinked and the unreadable emotion that had surfaced on Katsuki’s face briefly went right back under.
“Whatever you say… good or bad… I can’t hear it yet.”
“Because it’ll mess you up? Mentally?”
Izuku knew he’d gotten it right because Katsuki rewarded him with a smirk. Then the coach dropped his hand, fingers flexing around nothing. “Freaking sucks, don’t it?”
“No, it’s okay. I’d rather you stay focused for these next few hours, too.” Izuku smiled timidly, toying with the brim of Katsuki’s baseball cap. Then he added, entirely serious, “Get them to win, coach.”
“Focus, hah?” He seemed to mull it over for a second. “I don’t know if I can. Hard not to think about you.”
If it were anyone else, Izuku would probably think that was too corny, but he could tell Katsuki wasn’t trying to win him over, that he was genuinely worried he’d be distracted.
Izuku reached to where Katsuki’s hands rested by his side, interlacing their fingers. He gave them a reassuring squeeze. “You absolutely can. You can do anything.”
“Fuck… talking like that…” Katsuki muttered to himself, gaze slipping to where their hands met. Then those crimson eyes, the color of fire and just as warm, slid back to meet his own. “Alright, teach. I can do it… If you give me a good luck kiss.”
Izuku wanted to roll his eyes, he really did—especially when Katsuki turned his head and tapped his cheek expectantly. But the prospect of kissing Katsuki, even if it was an almost platonic gesture, made his dumb heart cartwheel in ecstasy.
Almost unconsciously, Izuku’s gaze slipped to the people seated nearby. They were facing the field, attention riveted on the singer currently belting the national anthem. Izuku and Katsuki were only a few paces away, completely in sight of anyone who might turn their way.
“Don’t worry about them.” As always, Katsuki proved he was paying attention, whipping off his hat and holding it at an angle to block both their faces from view. “Just you and me now, teach.”
So, hidden behind that hat, identity obscured, Izuku found the courage to purse his lips and lean forward to honor Katsuki’s request.
The split second before Izuku made contact, Katsuki turned.
Suddenly, instead of meeting the smooth skin of his cheek, Izuku’s lips were brushing against Katsuki’s in a close-mouthed kiss. He gasped when Katsuki pressed roughly against him, holding tight. Izuku’s mouth fell open in response, ready for more; a deeper kiss, a longer touch. But as soon as he was prepared for it, Katsuki was drawing away.
“Oops. My bad,” he said, completely unashamed. That cocky grin was back, wider than ever, especially when his gaze darted to Izuku’s lips, still parted in shock.
Izuku stared up at him, completely caught by surprise before dissolving into a soft gale of laughter. He probably should have seen that coming. “Sneaky…”
“You miss every strike you don’t swing at.” Katsuki shrugged.
I don’t think that’s the right saying, Izuku’s brain supplied. But he was too slap-happy to say anything. Besides, Katsuki was the baseball guy, and Izuku was just the beaming dork who liked him probably a little too much.
“Here. To complete the outfit.” Katsuki placed the ball cap on his head, straightening it to cover Izuku’s wild curls. A few snuck out anyway. “...cute,” he muttered, almost quiet enough that Izuku questioned if he even heard it.
It took Izuku a full three seconds before he could find his voice again. “Th-Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it. No big deal.”
He touched the brim, fingertips brushing against the unyielding surface.
“But it’s yours. It’s special…”
When did he become so dang obvious? And when did Izuku start sounding like Katsuki’s biggest fan?
With the hat obscuring the top of his vision, it was a bit trickier to see. Izuku was almost dreading Katsuki’s reaction—he was going to tease him for sure after that embarrassing display. But when he tilted his head back to get a proper eyeful of Katsuki, the coach seemed content to just leer wolfishly in reply.
Clearing his throat, Izuku hastily blurted, “Won’t you get in trouble, though?”
“For what? Giving my hat away? Please.” Katsuki checked the watch on his wrist, smirk fading a touch. “For being late though… Fuck. Better hurry up. You know how to get to your seat?”
“I can manage.”
“Good. See you out there.” Katsuki stepped out into the halo of light at the entrance. Right before he left, he paused and turned back toward Izuku. “Thanks for the luck.”
And with that, he left—bound for the dugout and the start of the game. Izuku watched him until he disappeared from sight, lips tingling at the memory of that stolen kiss, heart pounding the entire time.
If sports were like music, then professional baseball was a slow-building symphony, working towards a crescendo. Almost the entirety of the game took place between the mound and home plate, where the mental struggle between pitchers and batters played out for all to witness. It was analytical. Precise. The sort of thing that when Izuku gave it a chance, he found he rather enjoyed.
But college baseball was an entirely different genre of music. If the big leagues were a symphony, then tonight’s game was a rock concert.
Within the first few pitches of the game, Musutafu launched one over the fence, driving in a runner on base and going up by two. Izuku jumped to his feet along with half of the crowd, cheering loudly… only to groan, anguished, half an inning later when their opponent scored three runs in retaliation.
Every inning brought a loud, new song; each batter was a drum solo gone rogue. Izuku found himself creeping toward the edge of his hard, plastic seat as time wore on. Players raced between bases while defenders slung hard throws to catch them. They slid on the dirt, leapt high to catch fly balls, and occasionally collided with each other.
And Izuku had a great vantage point to witness it all. He was in the first row behind home plate, in a premium seat. Aside from actually picking up a glove and trotting out onto the red-clay infield, Izuku was as close as he could get to the action.
Before he knew it, eight innings had come and gone. He barely even remembered what Katsuki looked like through it all—which was funny, because Izuku probably glanced at him once every five minutes.
When Musutafu took the field, Katsuki would linger in the opening of the dugout, a look of utter intensity sketched on his face. His eyes followed the white ball everywhere it flew and his bellowing voice caused more than a few heads to turn. He was daunting, but in the way that caged lions at the zoo menaced behind the bars of their enclosures. All power and strength… with nowhere to direct it.
It was similar to when Musutafu was at bat. He prowled the coach’s box by third plate, instructing batters and directing runners, trying to close the gap between the two team’s scores. Despite how intense he appeared, Izuku wasn’t the slightest bit fazed by him. In fact—when Izuku wasn’t occupied with watching the plays on the field—he was fantasizing about Katsuki.
What would it be like later, when all that intensity finally got released? Izuku pictured it. Katsuki, ripping Izuku’s clothes off and pinning him beneath him; that solid body, coiled tight with unresolved tension. Izuku didn’t know what he’d do. Would he give in right away, going pliant and letting Katsuki take him? Or would he tease and nip, driving the other man to insanity?
It’d be interesting to find out.
He had to let the thought go as they slid into the ninth inning. Currently down by two runs, this was Musutafu’s last chance to even the score. If they didn’t, game over. But if they did, they could at least take this to extra innings. The air was stifled with unspoken nerves—both from the players who took the field and the fans watching them, tense in their seats—and it was almost a struggle to breathe. Izuku had never wanted something so badly in his life as he did now, willing this young team to win.
The first batter drilled a line drive past the second baseman. It was a solid hit, the kind that pops right over the infielder’s head and drops into the open field behind him. The batter had no problem making it to first… though he stunned everyone when he didn’t stop there, sharply turning and barreling onward. He caught the outfielder who’d fielded the ball off guard—no one would expect that the batter would go for it, not with the ball as close as it was to second base—causing a late throw. He easily slid into the bag in a cloud of dirt. Safe.
Izuku let out the breath he’d been holding. It was a good start.
Then things got a little shakier. The next batter fouled out, sending up a lazy, high fly ball. The third baseman trotted beneath it, catching it easily. And the batter after was even worse—a strikeout, having not touched the ball once.
Two outs, one runner on base. Championship game on the line. It wasn’t just pressure, it was an accumulation of a lifetime of work, all down to one at-bat. The next player up didn’t falter. He was one Izuku recognized, too; a burly freshman that tagged along with Kota sometimes…
Izuku found himself forgiving the kid for all his unexcused absences as he knocked a hard ball into the outfield, getting onto first.
Two outs, two runners, tying run on first. The enormity of the situation wasn’t lost on the next batter, who looked far jumpy as he fidgeted at the plate. He kept adjusting his gloves, the knee pad he wore, his helmet, his bat… And then when the first pitch flew past him, unscathed, he appeared downright rattled.
When the second, a curveball, slipped below his bat, he swore loudly.
“Please, please, please, oh no…” Izuku murmured, praying quietly. Even if Musutafu didn’t win—which he was desperately willing into being—he couldn’t stomach the idea of one person blaming themselves for ending the game.
Baseball was a team effort, but Izuku knew it had to be difficult to be the last at-bat, with his team’s legacy on the line. It was almost enough to make him cry.
Just before the player stepped back into the batter’s box, Katsuki called a timeout. Casually, he jogged up to the kid. They didn’t have long to discuss anything—a handful of seconds at most—but as Izuku stared, he witnessed something of a miracle.
Katsuki placed a hand on either shoulder, lightly shaking his player while giving him a mischievous grin. He saw the kid nod vigorously. Then, they both laughed and bumped fists.
In his head, Izuku could practically hear that familiar voice. You’ve got this, kid. So knock one out of the park already.
If anyone had asked him a year ago if he’d ever imagine Katsuki doing something like that, Izuku would have chuckled. He would have said Katsuki was too stubborn and self-absorbed to care about anything. That he’d be much more likely to scream at the kids from the bench and cause a scene.
But now? Izuku saw Katsuki in a whole new light. Despite the outrageous things that tumbled from his mouth, Katsuki was patient. He was understanding. He cared deeply, and let his passionate nature guide him. And somehow, he knew how to foster the people around him—what to say to inspire an entire nation of baseball fans… and also how to get a kid with the weight of the world on his shoulders to laugh.
Katsuki was a good guy.
And Izuku loved him.
As the batter returned to the plate and the crowd watching him drew in its collective breath. Izuku found himself doing the same. Unlike the others, whose eyes followed the batter, Izuku’s gaze was rooted on Katsuki instead, unblinking. Of course, now would be the time he’d realize the depths of his feelings. Always the most inopportune moment, while he was too far away to do anything.
Stupid. Stupid. I’m so stupid.
It took the person sitting next to Izuku accidentally bumping his leg to knock him out of his stupor. Dazed, Izuku turned his attention back to the batter, dragging his gaze away from that strong, muscular figure walking back towards the dugout.
The count was at 0-2; no balls, two strikes. One more and the entire game was over. Izuku knew by now that if the pitch was remotely close, the batter would have to swing to keep their hopes alive. And so he did, getting a piece of the next strike but knocking it foul and out of reach. Stretching the game out, just that tiny bit more. Then the next pitch came in, high and inside—a ball. Count at 1-2.
Another pitch, another foul ball sent hurtling back into the net. The batter was staying alive but only just. The next one bounced in the dirt… another ball. At least it was proof that the battle between him and the pitcher wasn’t one-sided. Both of them were getting tired, wearing the other out. Count at 2-2.
Then, a fastball—thrown straight and screaming towards the plate. Izuku blinked and missed it, the ball disappearing under the blinding lights of the stadium. If it were Izuku at the plate, that’d be it. Game over.
The batter however, had his eye on it the entire time.
A fierce swing and the crack! of the bat as it made contact. Izuku swore that he could hear the scream of the ball as it tore through the air, but only for a second before it was drowned out by the raucous explosion of the crowd.
Even before it had left the bat, Izuku knew it was a homerun.
There was something about the sound of a clean hit—that hollow ring when the bat makes contact; a tone that reverberates through the bones, solid and forceful. He wasn’t sure specifically what caused him to jump to his feet. Izuku just did, along with the rest of the stadium, like the ball was on a string pulling as it flew away.
Izuku hollered in delight. He watched as the little white sphere disappeared over the fence, jumping up and down while all three runners bolted towards home. The entire team poured out to greet the homerun hitter at the plate, swallowing him up in a boisterous celebration. Izuku felt like he was a part of them, another body disappearing in the huddle; another voice lost in the balmy summer air.
Somehow—between the exuberant one-armed hug Izuku was wrapped in on one side and the hair ruffling he received from the other—his eyes found Katsuki’s in the chaos. The coach was by the dugout, overseeing his team's celebration from afar. Then his gaze broke off, meeting Izuku’s searching one. They shared a brief exchange: Izuku, a joyful whoop; Katsuki a roll of his eyes and a smirk. A stolen moment for just the two of them.
Good job, coach! That was amazing! Izuku would have said, if Katsuki could hear him. And he knew Katsuki’s response without even hearing it.
These fucking guys. All nervous for nothing. Told ‘em they could do it.
The moment passed, the game resuming once the elated visitor team returned to their dugout. They couldn’t celebrate for too long. The game was still going, the final out had yet to be recorded. Even so, their triumph couldn’t be quelled, not even when the last of Musutafu’s batters struck out.
The teams switched places. It was the home team’s—Musutafu’s opponent’s—turn at bat. They were on their backfoot now, down by one run and fighting for their lives. Half an inning to victory and Izuku could feel its presence just beyond his grasp, as real as if he could reach out and touch it.
Izuku had never witnessed a sports game in person, at least not one where the momentum shifted so suddenly and with such finality as this one. It truly was a tide changing directions; a force of nature that left the other team swimming futilely against the undertow.
The first out in the bottom of the ninth came quickly. A batter up, three strikes, a batter down. Kota was on fire now, the relief pitcher finding his rhythm when it mattered the most. Musutafu buzzed with barely contained glee as he sent that first batter back into the dugout, smiles attempting to break free on the fielders’ faces. They barely kept them locked away… all except for Kota who was as stony-faced as ever.
The second batter tempered the mood, but only just. He managed to single, bat ringing sharply as he sent the ball into the dead zone between the fielders. Despite a herculean effort from the shortstop, he beat out the throw, making it to first safely
Even then, the momentum didn’t shift much. Musutafu was a force unleashed now, and Kota was the one at the front, hitting his stride at the opportune moment. His pitches were precise, his attitude detached yet focused… This was their game to lose. Just because the other team was able to get a lousy hit, didn’t mean the outcome changed.
They were still going to win this. They had to.
The third batter stepped up and hope was technically still alive for the other team. They were desperate though, lining the dugout fence and clinging to it like a ship about to sink beneath the waves. The desperation was so palpable that Izuku could feel it from where he stood in front of his seat, arms folded over his chest.
Izuku wasn’t blinking this time as that first pitch came sailing across the plate—round, fast and a little high. He didn’t miss a thing as the batter stepped into his swing, muscles in his forearm squeezing as he brought the bat around in a perfect arc. Just like before, Izuku could sense the hit before it happened. Contact was inevitable; the crash of bat and ball, undeniable.
What Izuku could not anticipate was the line drive that followed. Faster than the pitch it was born from, it flew hard and straight… right into Kota’s baseball mitt.
Even Kota seemed stunned by it, staring at his glove owlishly for a moment. That was an out, as free and easy as it gets. One more and they’d win it.
“Throw it to first, you idiot!” Katsuki’s gruff voice cut through the rumbling quiet, loud and clear. Izuku would have laughed if he didn’t immediately echo those words himself.
“Throw it to first, Kota!” He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted as hard as he could.
But Kota didn’t need their help. He was already spinning on his heel, ball slipping from his fingers in a light toss towards the first baseman. The runner—who’d taken off at the sound of contact—scrambled back with all his might, sliding hard towards the base, leg stretched long, foot reaching towards white rubber…
…Just before his cleats hit the bag, the ball sank into the pocket of the first baseman’s glove.
Double play.
Two outs at once to end the game.
Musutafu had won!
Izuku’s scream of jubilation disappeared among the many others. He became part of that crowd, bonded forever with them in that single, perfect moment of triumph. Without a thought, he jumped and whooped with laughter, then followed them as they spilled out onto the field to join the players celebrating by home plate.
He didn’t remember climbing over the fence that separated the field from the seats, but he did with relative ease, hopping onto the field. Only when he had green grass under his red tennis shoes did he realize what he was doing, how silly it felt. Then he lifted his head, spied the knot of players celebrating, and forgot to care.
Katsuki was over there. And Izuku wanted—no, needed— to see him.
Finding Katsuki would prove easier said than done. As more and more people flooded the field, the scene became chaotic. So many similar-colored jerseys, blending together. Izuku couldn’t tell who was a player and who was someone who’d paid to watch tonight’s game; it was all just a blur of happy, smiling faces. He couldn’t even call out if he wanted to since so many were shouting and cheering still.
Just as he had decided to fade back towards the edge of the swirling crowd, to seek some higher ground so he could find Katsuki, he felt a tap on his shoulder and a low voice in his ear.
“Heya, teach.”
Izuku whirled to face him. “Kacchan! How’d you find me?”
Katsuki plucked the shirt Izuku had on, his signature cocky grin firmly in place. “Like I said before, my color looks good on you,” he purred, crimson eyes sparkling. “Missed the name on the back earlier. Nice touch.”
The probing look he sent Izuku felt like Katsuki was running an invisible finger over each letter of the name ‘Bakugou’. The span between Izuku’s shoulder blades tickled in response.
Yeah, he was glad he’d put it on today, too..
“I’m not going to wear someone else’s jersey,” he replied. The shine in Katsuki’s eyes took on a predatory gleam. So in an attempt to change the subject, Izuku hastily tacked on, “You didn’t actually say that… that I looked good.”
“I didn’t?” One of Katsuki’s blonde eyebrows shot up, his gaze assessing. “Well, you look pretty goddamn good, since you’re wondering.”
The tips of Izuku’s ears felt red hot, his tongue tripping over his reply. Thankfully, he was saved from his pathetic attempts at forming words. The arrival of the assistant coach, Kirishima, couldn’t have been better timed.
“Oh! Professor Midoriya!” Coach Kirishima exclaimed, clapping Katsuki on the shoulder. “So this is who you kept looking at in the front row. I should’ve known.”
Katsuki shrugged him off, glowering. “Buzz off.”
“Good to see you, man,” Kirishima told Izuku, brushing off Katsuki’s cranky reply. “First time out to one of our games? You picked a good one!”
It was not, in fact, his first time seeing the team play. But he’d rather not share what happened the last time he did with someone who was grinning at him so innocently.
“You won!” Izuku choked out. “C-Congratulations!”
“Oi! Why are you congratulating him–”
“Thank you!” Kirishima beamed. “The kids worked hard to get here. They deserve it.”
“They sure did.” Izuku huffed a laugh, the memory of the team sprawled out in his hallway fresh on his mind. “But they couldn’t have made it without good coaching. You should both be proud.”
“Damn straight.” Katsuki nodded sharply, his temporary crankiness gone. In fact, after Izuku’s mild praise, he was practically beaming. He even allowed Kirishima to elbow his ribs and crack a joke about the umpire… though he did roll his eyes so hard into the back of his head that Izuku feared they might get stuck there.
“Anyway, the reporters are looking for you, coach, so you better—”
Izuku missed the tail-end of Kirishima’s sentence as Katsuki suddenly moved, promptly wrapping an arm around Izuku’s waist and dragging him to his side. Stumbling, Izuku crashed into that broad chest, letting out a small huff of surprise.
Splash!
Before Izuku could ask what was happening, he registered the loud splash and caught sight of two Musutafu players and an overturned cooler, dripping red liquid.
They’d just dumped out an entire container filled with gatorade. And if Katsuki hadn’t dipped to the side in time, it would have been all over the both of them.
Izuku suddenly remembered. This was a sports tradition for the winning team—the players catching the coach off guard, dousing him with the icy drink. Katsuki was supposed to take it in stride, laughing it off good-naturedly. Just a silly celebration.
Except Katsuki had expertly stepped out of the way just in the nick of time. The liquid, intended for him, was now splashed all over a stunned Coach Kirishima.
Katsuki let out a loud, completely undignified laugh. “Nice try, morons! You’re a hundred years too early if you think you can distract me like that.” He whirled on his players, ready to let them have it, too.
Izuku saw the second gatorade container but didn’t have the heart to warn Katsuki. All he could do was brace himself.
“Fuck!” Katsuki swore and Izuku felt him jolt as the cold liquid caught him by surprise. Izuku flinched as well as it slipped down his collar, freezing and wet. “Get back here, you shits!”
“Sorry, professor!”
“Sorry, sir!” Izuku could have sworn that the last one was Kota, but he was laughing too hard to see properly.
“You better run, you jackoffs! Go get ‘em, Shitty Hair!”
Izuku heard feet pounding on dirt, assuming that the others had fled with Coach Kirishima hot on their heels… though Kirishima was probably only pretending to chase them.
He felt a palm on his cheek, turning his face upwards. Then, a rough cloth on his skin. When he could finally open his eyes, he only saw Katsuki standing in front of him, the others long gone. The head coach had pulled out the small towel he kept in his back pocket, and was currently using it to wipe Izuku’s face.
“Sorry ‘bout that. Those dumb shits got you, too, didn’t they?”
Izuku grinned, his own hand coming up to rest on Katsuki’s. It felt right to do, which was funny considering how many people were around them. “Don’t worry about it. The hat helped.”
“Still…”
Izuku peered up at Katsuki, mesmerized. There was a youthful buoyancy to him that came with tonight’s victory, like nothing could take him down. Not even a cooler full of gatorade could dampen his mood. He was confidence incarnate; joy unbridled.
Katsuki Bakugou was a force of nature—beautiful and bold.
The desire stirring in Izuku’s chest as he gazed at him was a purely selfish one. He wanted a piece of Katsuki, a part of him that only Izuku knew about and that no one else was privy to—what Katsuki was like, waking up on a Saturday morning; how he chose his outfit for the day or where he liked to spend his free time. Most importantly, Izuku wanted that softness that he got in his eyes, when he looked at Izuku sometimes.
Yes, Izuku was selfish. He wanted to be the only one who saw that part of Katsuki.
“Kacchan, can I tell you now?”
The hand on Izuku’s cheek twitched. “‘Course,” he said gruffly, before going unusually still. His arm dropped back to his side.
Izuku almost wanted to chuckle. What was with that worried furrow in his brow? How could Katsuki not sense the depth of Izuku’s feelings, when they felt as though they were flowing from him like an open faucet? He was positively brimming with affection. Reaching out, Izuku touched Katsuki’s chest, resting his hand there.
“I have to admit, Kacchan. I don’t think what we’re doing makes sense. It’s too soon after my breakup. We don’t know each other that well. We don’t even seem like a good match, how could it ever work?”
Izuku sighed, the sound accompanied by the twitch of Katsuki’s eyebrows. “Gods, I hope you’re messing with me.”
“Is it too soon? Yeah. Do we know each other well? No. Are we a good match? Probably, but… there’s no way of telling for sure. It’s stupid. And downright reckless, but…” Nerves danced in Izuku’s stomach. He plowed onward despite them, though the strained expression on Katsuki’s face softened the rest of Izuku’s words.
“But even so… I’d rather be stupid and reckless than miss a single moment with you.”
Katsuki seemed to find himself finally, though he still appeared stunned, his response coming slowly. “So, you’re saying that you’re scared. Scared, but… You’re still gonna try.”
I’m also saying… What am I saying? Izuku wondered. Should he tell him the rest of it? That every second he was with Katsuki felt like he was falling even harder?
Should he tell Katsuki that he already loved him?
Not yet. Saying something like that will only scare him. Heck, it scares me.
So he steadied his smile, and replied, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He realized that at some point in the past minute or so, he’d fisted Katsuki’s jersey, as if he were clinging to him for balance, or trying to prevent him from running away. Embarrassed, he relaxed his grip, smoothing the wrinkled fabric.
Katsuki trapped his hand against his chest before he could withdraw completely, squeezing his fingers tightly. “So you’re saying that you’re all mine?”
Izuku’s heart pounded in his ears. “Yes… that… I’m yours,” he stuttered, face growing hot.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” Katsuki suddenly wrapped his arms around Izuku’s waist, picking him off the ground like he weighed nothing and spinning them both around. The stadium lights blurred, the mixed colors of a ballpark at night streaking for a second until Katsuki righted them both. “I could kiss you right now.”
“Then you should.”
Katsuki nodded to either side of them where fans still milled, chattering loudly. The mass of people—absorbed in their own happiness—hadn’t intruded on Izuku’s and Katsuki’s moment yet. Two men hugging was nothing to pay attention to, when so many were clutching each other, celebrating victory.
But if Katsuki kissed Izuku… If they caught anyone’s attention… He was famous, after all, and a lightning-rod rod for attention. Anyone who he embraced in public might as well carry a sign around that stated, in clear letters, “feel free to dig into my personal life.”
“Your hat, teach,” Katsuki told him, diligently pulling it off of Izuku’s head. Without hearing him explain it, Izuku knew what Katsuki was planning—just like before, he’d use it to cover Izuku’s face, protecting his identity while planting one on his lips.
Izuku didn’t care. The thought of waiting made him antsy and sneaking to a dark corner to steal a kiss seemed unbearable. So, he snatched the hat back from Katsuki—holding it tight so he wouldn’t lose it—rocked on his tiptoes, wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck, and locked their lips together for all the world to see.
The embrace was sweet and unrefined; a spilling of emotion that started as Izuku proclaiming his affection for Katsuki, but ended with Katsuki taking it to the next level and literally sweeping Izuku off his feet. One second, he was standing on the packed dirt of the infield; the next, Katsuki was dipping him low, an arm braced around him to keep Izuku from falling.
With the lights flickering behind his closed eyelids and his heart plucking a steady beat, Izuku could almost imagine that they were dancing. He sighed dreamily as they parted, opening his eyes softly and waiting expecting to be drawn back to his feet.
He should have known better.
Katsuki straightened and brought Izuku with him all right, but rather than release him onto solid ground, he picked him up, bridal-style.
“What?!”
“Hold on or I might drop you,” Katsuki grunted. “C’mon, we’re getting out of here.”
“I’m a—I’m a grown man!” Izuku squawked, alarmed as Katsuki held him tight against his chest.
“And I’m carrying you, a grown man. So quit squirming already.”
As soon as Katsuki started moving, Izuku had no choice but to stop fighting or risk tumbling ass-first in front of everyone. Things were already embarrassing enough, so he decided to make the best of it, putting his hat back on and tugging it low.
“If you’re worried about someone seeing you, don’t. They’ll just think this is guys being guys. A coach’s ‘funny viral moment’ after winning a championship”
“S-sure.”
Katsuki squeezed him, murmuring suggestively, “You can always hide your face against my neck.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Katsuki’s chuckle was warm, drawing a shiver up Izuku’s spine. “You fuckin’ got me there, teach.”
Despite this being the single-most awkward moment that Izuku could think of in recent history—what with cameras all around, people staring at them so hard that Izuku could feel their eyeballs lasering in on him—he still ended up following Katsuki’s advice, burying his face against the thick column of his neck. It wasn’t that he was afraid of them finding out who he was… It was just that Izuku was so darn red, flushed from head to toe. If that ended up on social media…
He forced himself to stop thinking about it. Being in Katsuki’s arms right now was reassuring. Easier. He smelled good too, like warm summer air and freshly cut grass—a surprisingly clean scent, as though he’d just showered a few minutes ago; beneath the other notes wafted his rich, masculine body wash. Izuku found himself nuzzling closer, breathing it in with a heavy sigh.
Worries seemed lighter here, less important.
“What about the reporters?” he asked as they walked through the gate, heading towards the stadium. “Aren’t you supposed to do an interview?”
“They can wait” was the only reply he got, gruff and a little strained.
Izuku shifted, using the excuse of adjusting his position to get even closer. Katsuki was incredibly strong. He made Izuku feel fragile and delicate, even though he was about as average-sized as they come. Being hauled around like this, feeling those muscles flex beneath him… Izuku wanted more of it.
“Kacchan…” His voice came out dazed, muffled by the column of Katsuki’s neck..
“Mm?”
“H-How long are you going to carry me?” he asked. “Where are we going?”
“To my car.” They were beneath the stadium seats now, taking one of the many tunnels. The lighting had dimmed significantly and there were far less people here. Still, Katsuki refused to put him down.
“And then where?” he wondered. Katsuki had been carrying him for a while because Izuku had decided to ask. Already, the corners of his vision lightened as they moved from the tunnels to back outside. This time, they were walking in the parking lot that surrounded the stadium.
“That’s it. Just the car.”
“Wha…?”
But Katsuki didn’t elaborate. Only a few long seconds passed and then Izuku was clinging harder as Katsuki retrieved something from his pocket, jostling him around. He registered the flicker of car lights as Katsuki pressed his keyfob and then not much else until the door was flung open and Izuku was unceremoniously tossed inside.
“Kacchan—” The name had barely slipped from his lips before Katsuki was assaulting them, sealing off any more attempts at conversation. He kissed differently than he had on the field, minutes ago—hot and heavy, full of intention as he methodically explored Izuku’s mouth with his tongue. All the while, his hands did the same, mapping Izuku’s body as they roamed where they wanted.
“Can’t decide if I want the jersey on or off,” Katsuki growled, withdrawing his tongue long enough to speak.
Izuku gasped. He was fighting to catch his breath, winded after that absolutely brutal assault on his mouth. His head was spinning, chest heaving. It seemed like Katsuki had wanted to devour him whole.
“At least close the door!” he squeaked.
Katsuki tilted his head to the side, blonde hair haloed by the streetlamp behind him. He almost looked angelic if not for the wicked smirk on his spit-shiny lips. “We’re in the players’ lot. No one here but you and me.”
Izuku could hear vehicles idling nearby—the losing team’s fans, he assumed—waiting to leave the stadium but trapped in traffic. The noise was steady… but far away. He knew Katsuki wasn’t messing with him. Until someone came along, they were isolated.
Still, Izuku wasn’t bold enough to spread his legs in front of an open car door, even if Katsuki was technically blocking him from view.
“Just shut it!”
He whimpered as Katsuki’s hand skated up his chest, playing with a nipple.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Katsuki grumbled. “Scoot over.”
Moving around in the backseat of a normal-size car would have been tricky. But this was a luxury SUV—a fact Izuku had picked up on when he’d touched the soft leather and caught sight of the tinted windows earlier. Now when he pushed himself up to make room for the tall, athletic coach, it was all too apparent. There was more than enough space for both of them.
Katsuki looked entirely too comfortable as he sat next to him, like a king on his throne, surrounded by luxury.. The mental image didn’t last long. As soon as he shut the door behind him, he pulled Izuku onto his lap.
“W-wait!”
“For what?” Katsuki hooked a finger in the front of Izuku’s bright orange jersey, dragging it down so he could properly nip at his exposed collarbone. “Got about as much privacy in this as money can buy. Soundproof, tinted windows, space enough to fuck you properly… hell, if you’re worried about the seats, I can get them professionally cleaned. So feel to cu—”
Hastily, Izuku covered Katsuki’s mouth with both hands. “That’s not it!” he squeaked, blushing fiercely.
‘Then what is it?’ Katsuki asked, though his words came out garbled. His hands abandoned Izuku’s shirt, working open his fly instead.
“I… I’m wearing something…” Izuku murmured, suddenly shy. He had to rush out the rest, before he chickened out. “...want-you-to-see-it.”
Katsuki’s eyebrows shot upwards. Izuku could feel the smile blooming against his palm. He withdrew his hands. “Something for me?” he rasped.
“Y-yeah.” Izuku shifted to his knees, squeezing his thighs against Katsuki’s hips for balance. Once he’d lifted himself high enough, he was able to slide his jeans down an inch… just enough that Katsuki could get a peek at what he had on beneath them.
“Panties?” Katsuki’s gaze sharpened, eyes narrowing predatorily. Before Izuku even saw him move, he felt a finger slide between the thin, elastic band and his waist, snapping the fabric. “Panties. These are panties, right? Yeah?”
“They are.” Izuku flinched as Katsuki snapped the band again, almost as if he were testing it.
“You…” Katsuki turned his face up, crimson eyes meeting green briefly before switching back to the view in his lap. “These are my old team’s colors again. I didn’t know they made men’s panties…”
Izuku squirmed. He could feel his cock swelling under Katsuki’s scrutiny and knew without a doubt that the other could see it, too. The more Katsuki ogled him, the more Izuku’s length strained against the stretchy black and orange fabric.
“I had them custom made,” he whispered. Absently, he reached down to shield himself. “Okay, you can take them off now.”
“Yeah fucking right. C’mere.” Suddenly, he gripped Izuku’s ass cheeks and yanked him closer, until he was eye level with Izuku’s crotch. He slowly pressed one hip forward, then the next. Like Izuku was a specimen he needed to study, and Katsuki was the scientist, completely fascinated.
“Now this is a nice view.”
“Th-this—” Izuku sucked in a breath as Katsuki ran his lips over Izuku’s length. The panties were thin enough that he could feel every tiny sensation, even the flick of Katsuki’s tongue as he passed over his head. “Ah—pl-please.”
“Please what?” Katsuki wondered, abandoning Izuku’s stiffened cock to nose along his hipbone. Teasing Izuku, once again, proved to be a favorite hobby of his. And oh how Izuku shuddered and squirmed, twitching his hips to get more.
“Please, fuck me.”
They were both still fully clothed—Katsuki in his baseball uniform, cleats and all; Izuku in the other man’s jersey, jeans pinching the tops of his thighs. But Izuku didn’t care. Naked, clothed… he just wanted Katsuki inside of him. Now.
“Can do, teach. After I prep you,” Katsuki responded, frustratingly responsible. The fingers fondling the squishy flesh of Izuku’s ass suddenly moved inward to play with his rim. They promptly discovered something along the way. “A thong?”
Izuku nodded.
“Oh baby, I am absolutely going to destroy that ass,” Katsuki growled.
Half occupied with teasing Izuku’s hole—circling around it as goosebumps erupted all over Izuku’s skin—Katsuki blindly rummaged in the backseat pocket in front of them. A moment later, he produced a bottle of lube and wasted no time cracking it open.
“Um, maybe you can take your time. A little.” Izuku tried to reason with him. The expression on Katsuki’s face as he slicked a few digits was a little scary.
“Hold your shirt up,” he ordered sharply, as though he hadn’t even heard him.
“Okay,” Izuku said meekly, obediently raising his shirt.
“Don’t take it off. I want to fuck you in it.”
“O-okay.” He watched as Katsuki leaned forward, latching onto an exposed nipple. Izuku gasped as his tongue swirled over the bud… though the sound quickly transformed into a whine as one of Katsuki’s lube-coated fingers pressed against his rim. “Slowly…!”
“One second you’re begging for it raw, now you want slow. So demanding.” Katsuki hummed and backed off just a bit anyway, easing the tip of his finger inside. He took his time playing with Izuku—sucking marks on his chest while he worked his finger in and out. By the time Katsuki finished with the first nipple, teasing it until the peak was stiff, he was able to get down to the second knuckle.
“Didn’t play with yourself while we were apart?”
“No, I… I did. Just—” He blinked his eyes open, glancing down to meet Katsuki’s curious ones. “I’m nervous.”
“Why?” Katsuki’s teeth edged into Izuku’s pink bud, just shy of the line between pleasure and pain. Izuku’s hips rolling in response, unintentionally pushing Katsuki’s finger even deeper.
“Because it’s you. That’s why.” Izuku knew he wasn’t making any sense. Katsuki and Izuku had slept together before—multiple times, all through the night.
Still, it was different now that they were officially together. Before, Izuku could have walked away and pretended he didn’t care. Now… Well, now it felt like he needed to prove to Katsuki that he’d made the right choice.
“Here. Gimme your hand.”
Of all requests for Katsuki to make, Izuku wasn’t anticipating that one. Mild taunting was more of Katsuki’s style, an attempt to lighten the mood and dispel the nerves. Once more, Izuku found himself thrown by Katsuki’s actions. Holding his shirt up with his left, Izuku offered his other hand to Katsuki, befuddled.
Katsuki drew it to his chest, letting it rest there. “Feel that?”
He pushed Izuku’s palm until it laid flat against the hard planes of muscle. Izuku could feel it now, just behind his ribcage—Katsuki’s racing, fluttering heart.
“You’re not the only one who’s nervous.” Katsuki spoke with sincerity, his words earnest and stripped of any of his usual bravado. And just like that, Izuku nerves dissipated. It was just the two of them, vulnerable yet excited for what was to come next, both aching for the other.
Oh. Izuku wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, before promptly capturing Katsuki’s in a soul-searing kiss. The movement forced his hips back, drawing the finger probing him in fully. He hardly cared, immediately adjusting to the intrusion.
They touched desperately, like they were attempting to burn themselves into the other’s skin; marking each other permanently… if a kiss could do such a thing. But dammit, Izuku was going to find out, taking as much of Katsuki as the other man was willing to give, and doing the same in return.
“More,” he demanded drunkenly. “Gimme more.”
“Sure.” Katsuki nipped at his mouth, the tip of his second finger wriggling against Izuku’s twitching hole before slipping inside. “I’ll give you everything.”
Izuku panted, biting his lip. The next question came out unbidden, his subconscious striking while he was distracted by the delicious sensation happening between his legs. “Can you… Can you talk dirty to me?”
“Fuck yeah.” Katsuki’s voice smoldered now, a low and heated growl. “I’m gonna rip those panties off, push you down into his backseat and fuck you. I’ll fuck you so hard the entire car is gonna shake.”
“Everyone’s going to know.” Izuku rocked back, impaling himself on that second digit with a gasp.
“Oh hell yeah they’ll know. They’ll know when they hear you moaning too, begging me to cum inside you.”
“Mm…!” Izuku bit his lip and tilted his head back as Katsuki pressed a third finger inside, teasing that rim open. “Yes. Yes, please!”
Katsuki growled, biting his chest light enough to sting but not bruise. Izuku shuddered as he felt those teeth clamping down. “Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! I’m about to explode.”
Izuku dropped the jersey he was dutifully holding up, reaching between Katsuki’s legs to feel for himself. Yep, his massive member was fully engorged, tenting the front of his pants. With shaky hands, Izuku fumbled with the zipper, sliding it open.
“Put it in, already Kacchan,” he demanded, greedily squeezing Katsuki’s length. No underwear. Damn, he was trying to kill Izuku.
With a wet squelch, Katsuki extracted all three fingers. Despite his request, Izuku wasn’t quite prepared for it, falling against Katsuki’s chest with a quiet moan. He was so empty all of a sudden, hole squeezing around nothing. He needed Katsuki to fill him back up.
Gripping Izuku’s waist, Katsuki guided them both into position. He took a second to grind against the cleft of Izuku’s ass, hips circling maddeningly slow. As Izuku opened his mouth to lodge his complaint, one of the hands on his waist loosened its grip. Cool lube dripped between his cheeks a heartbeat later, coating both his entrance and Katsuki’s cock.
“Ready?” There was a hitch to the question, a breathless quality that gave away how eager Katsuki was… almost as much as Izuku. Katsuki exhaled slowly, reply feathering along Izuku’s collarbone. “Hold tight.”
With a tug, the thong Izuku was wearing was pulled to the side, leaving nothing between them as Katsuki lined himself up and rolled his hips.
Izuku was used to the slow burn of Katsuki entering him. Despite promising many times to fuck Izuku senseless, he was always extremely careful when he slid home, making sure it was near painless. There was no throb today… just the familiar sensation of being stretched wide.
Even so, Izuku was close to tears when Katsuki bottomed out. It had been too long, too much time apart. “So good,” he gasped into Katsuki’s ear, running his tongue along the shell of it.
“Teach…” Katsuki warned. “If you keep doing that, I can’t promise I’ll be able to hold back.”
“Then don’t, coach.”
Katsuki held fast, his cock buried fully inside. Izuku felt him shudder, though if it was from the nickname or the way Izuku bounced his hips, he couldn’t know.
“Say that again,” Katsuki demanded. “Call me ‘coach’.”
“Coach…” Izuku attempted a purr, though gods only know how it came out—choked and filled with horniness, no doubt. He continued his quick, frantic movements, attempting to rev Katsuki up. “Coach…! Fuck me.”
He had witnessed Katsuki lose his composure before. Watched him shout and scream until his face turned red, vein popping out of his forehead. It was different this time, like the last thread of his sanity snapped all at once. Suddenly he was near feral, snarling as he flipped Izuku onto his back, and speared him on his cock.
“Ah!” Izuku barely had the wherewithal to grab onto the seat as Katsuki thrust into him, hitting deep. He was glad he did. The pace Katsuki set was frenzied and harsh, his hips slapping against Izuku’s backside loudly.
The car really did rock then, swaying back and forth as Katsuki slammed into him. Izuku could hardly move; Katsuki kept his legs spread, his large palms pinning Izuku’s thighs open. He pounded his walls ruthlessly, adjusting so he could hit Izuku’s prostate with every thrust. It wasn’t long until Izuku felt heat coil in his gut, threatening to spill out.
“I’m–!” he gasped, but could get out no more before his hips jerked, cock spilling all over his stomach. With a sob, Izuku came, orgasm rolling through him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.
“Bit longer,” Katsuki grunted. “More.”
Izuku’s body drew tight as Katsuki continued to pound into him, broken moans shocked out of him with every thrust. He squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that he saw stars popping in the dark. Maybe he was attempting to hone in on the sensation, to feel every ripple of pleasure. Or maybe it was all too much, and Izuku needed to block some of it out before he went crazy.
Then he felt Katsuki hand on his chin, tilting it up. “Eyes on me teach.”
Izuku blinked his eyes open, blearily focusing on the man above him.
“Yeah, that’s it Izuku. Focus on me.”
So Izuku did, and he was glad for it. Katsuki’s form was that of a god, sculpted from marble and made living flesh. Muscles swelled and flexed as he drove into him, the natural beauty of his strength on full display. But it wasn’t just his body that had Izuku swooning… Pleasure was carved in every line on his face.
Pleasure that Izuku put there.
I’m doing this to him, he thought, intoxicated with the view—Katsuki’s brows knitted, his pupils blown wide as he drank the sight of Izuku in, thrusting faster. I’m making him feel this way.
Izuku wanted this every day. This sight, this sensation, these deep unending waves of pleasure rolling through him… he wanted them all, but only if he felt them with Katsuki.
Relinquishing his death grip on the soft leather of the backseat, Izuku wound his arms around Katsuki, bringing him close.
“Please… please… Kacchan!” he begged nonsensically.
Katsuki swore in response, curses half-bitten off and pouring out of him. “Fuck, shit! You…! Goddamn it, Izuku. Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect…!”
Izuku couldn’t help it. When Katsuki’s hip stuttered and jerked, spasming as he spilled deep inside, Izuku came, too. The moan shuddered out of him, reverberating deep. It was as though all his senses went with it, leaving behind only messy aftershocks. It took him a moment to register Katsuki moving, even longer to feel the gentle brush of his lips against Izuku’s fevered skin.
“You alright, gorgeous?” Katsuki wondered. Vaguely, Izuku felt his fingers combing through his messy curls.
“M’fine,” he slurred, arching his back to allow Katsuki access to his neck. Katsuki’s lips caressed there as well, soft and tender.
“Scoot.”
Izuku groaned sleepily as Katsuki shifted his limp form, turning them both on their sides and snuggling behind him. It was a tight fit—Izuku was plastered against Katsuki—but they both squeezed in just fine.
“How is there so much room in here?” he muttered, keeping his eyes firmly shut as the final waves of pleasure settled, leaving him loose and relaxed.
“Money, that’s how.”
“You’re too rich, you jerk.”
Katsuki chuckled. “Yeah, maybe. Though I’m sure you have a few ideas on how to help me lighten my wallet.”
“History department could use some new desks… computers…” Izuku trailed off.
“Sure, whatever you want.”
He knew they were both just joking around, but still Izuku’s heart skipped a beat at the thought that Katsuki would spend that kind of ridiculous amount of money on him. “If you keep messing around like that, you’ll give me weird ideas about us.”
“Weird ideas? Like what?” Katsuki asked, his voice a low and steady murmur.
“Not sure…”
“Ideas like how I plan on spoiling you? Or how all you have to do is ask, and I’ll give you the entire world?” he wondered, half-jesting. The next question wasn’t spoken lightly however… just quietly, whispered directly into Izuku’s ear. “Or how I love you, too?”
Izuku startled, almost falling off the seat. He had to twist pretty far around to make eye contact with Katsuki—nearly straining his back to do so—but he managed, green meeting crimson.
“T-too? You knew? When? How?” When Katsuki only grinned smugly in reply, he heatedly added, “Take it back!”
“Why?” Katsuki wasn’t fazed in the slightest, feeding off of Izuku’s affronted response.
“The first time you say it can’t be right after sex. Everyone knows that!” Izuku cried, reaching to flick him between his brows. Katsuki caught his hand before he could, preventing him from following through.
“Says who?”
“Everyone!” Izuku huffed, attempting to free himself. “Doesn’t count if you say it right after sex. Or when you’re horny!”
“That’s going to be hard to do,” Katsuki replied, tone still far too light. “I can’t help being turned on when I’m with you.” As if to prove his point, he ground his cock against Izuku’s ass. He was already half-hard.
“W-well—” Izuku wasn’t sure how to respond to that. His body did though—his flaccid length stirring, face flushing red.
“Well,” Katsuki continued on his behalf. “Guess I’ll just have to say it every day until you believe me.”
Izuku stared at him for a moment, unable to hide the smile breaking on his face. “I’m okay with that,” he whispered finally.
As they leaned into each other, slotting their lips together, it felt as though they were settling into something new. Something lasting. And though Izuku was excited to spend the rest of their days together—the exciting ones, the slower ones, and every type in between—he knew that every single moment with Katsuki would be filled with passion and, most certainly, never boring.